Hope sparked inside her. “Don't keep me in suspense."
"The arsonist broke in through this back window."
"I know that. It's in the police and fire reports."
"Neither of which mention that the armoire sat so close to the window, evidenced by those lines." He again pointed out the faint right angle. "That whoever broke was strong because that person had to push aside the armoire."
The spark burst into a flame. "That's more than good faith. You just handed me the key to swaying the jury to a not guilty verdict."
He grinned. "No, I handed you a reason that Dita had a partner. Which is what the DA will say."
She returned his mile. "Thanks for the heads up. No doubt the DA's investigator has already noticed where that armoire was placed, which will be conveniently buried in Burnette's discovery. Wish I could prove that this strong man--guessing it's a man, but it makes sense--committed this arson solo. How can we can get a lead on his identity?"
Mike looked around the rubble. "As you know from the reports, CSI techs didn't find any DNA, except for the owner's, who weighs less than Dita. We can walk around and look for signs, but it would have to be something obvious, like a man's hefty fountain pen, but it's worth a try."
They walked carefully around the arson scene, pausing occasionally for Mike to take a photo with his smartphone. He pointed out the original of the fire, identifiable by the pattern of flame marks on a portion of the wall, how the arsonist set up the device in an opportune area with nearby clothing as flint and an overhead air duct to fuel the flames.
"Whoever set this fire knew what they were doing," he said, adding, "notice I said whoever."
"I noticed. Thank you."
"Watch devices are the signature of an amateur, mostly because they're imprecise. But the positioning of the device near clothes and an air duct show the arsonist's knowledge of how fires work. Which looks bad for Dita, of course."
Looked very bad because of her dad, the professional torch, and her ties to the eco-terrorist group. A realization that doused that small flame of hope.
* * *
Chapter 10
A few days later, Mike and Joanne sat in the kitchen of the one-bedroom suite with Archie, eating burgers and shakes. Whenever Mike and Joanne were at "home base" they invited Archie to join them for meals. Mike got a kick out of his grandfather who had started calling Joanne "Princess" which made her blush at first, but she obviously liked it, too, from the twinkle in her eye. His grandfather was a charmer.
"Joanne," Mike said, squeezed a packet of ketchup on his fries. "Got some information today from Rex. He found satellite imagery of your office building the night the device was found. In the footage, a figure in a hooded sweatshirt can be seen entering the smaller window off Garces Avenue and re-emerging ten minutes later. The body size indicates a male, approximately six foot. However, he covered his face and head so well, no other identifying characteristics are distinguishable. Rex also obtained imagery of the Organica Streetwear fire, but clouds obscure most of that view, so there's no evidence a man with a similar appearance planted both devices."
"But the circumstantial evidence of the moved armoire likely being moved by a man, combined with this image of a male figure planting a similar device, points to a man possible working alone in both scenarios.”
"Princess has a good idea," Archie said.
Joanne did a bad job trying to hide her smile.
"Should mind my own business," Archie continued. "But this arsonist guy...could it be that Rex fellow? From what you told me, Grandson, he had it out for you years ago. Revenge is a powerful thing."
"Revenge is the most common motive for setting fires, too," Mike said. "Rex and I have made our peace, but he also carried a grudge against me for fifteen years. Doesn't explain who set the fire at Paula's place, although the arsonist has been flagged a fire freak after the next two fires were in young women's apartments, and they had blond hair like Paula."
He'd known about the blond hair similarity between Paula and two other young women, but had never bought into the fire freak theory because those women had not been at home when the other fires were set, which made Mike think the person chose those women to make it seem these were acts of a psycho whose rages to set fires were triggered by a trait, such as blond hair, that brought back memories of an abusive mother, teacher or something along those lines. He had wondered at times if Rex set the Organica Streetwear fire as a means to lure Mike to Vegas where Rex could kill him. Sign of a demented, vengeful mind.
"One way to check up on Rex," Mike said to Joanne, "is to run a trash hit at his home."
"I'll drive the getaway car," Joanne said.
* * *
The following evening, Joanne pulled Mike’s SUV into the alley behind Rex’s ranch style home in Sunderland, an upper-crust residential area twenty minutes west of Las Vegas. Mike sat next to her in the passenger seat, Maggie in the back seat.
She parked about fifteen feet from a metal monster-sized dumpster—far enough away so they didn’t appear to be parking next to it, but close enough for Mike to quickly get there.
“Not a lot of traffic, fortunately,” Mike said, looking up and down the alley. “Remember, tap the horn once as a signal if someone’s walking around, whatever, and I should lay low. Tap it once again to let me know the coast is clear.
Her eyes grew huge, filled with anxiousness. Impulsively, he cupped her cheek and drew her in for a kiss. She tasted so sweet, so inviting.
He pulled away. “That was, uh, for good luck,” he joked.
But how he felt at the moment—protective, attracted—was anything but a joke. Of all times to feel drawn to her, this wasn’t it. He never lost focus on a job, yet around Joanne he was constantly fighting himself to stay in control, keep his thoughts in check.
She smiled feebly. “Good luck,” she whispered.
He slipped on one of the latex gloves they’d picked up on the way over. “Too bad that place didn’t have leather gloves...needles and broken glass can easily pierce latex.”
“Be careful,” she whispered with so much sincerity, he was ready to go for another good-luck kiss.
An old car rumbled past, its engine making a clunkity-clunk sound as it labored down the alley.
Mike snapped on the other glove. “Let’s go over this again. Keep the motor running as if you’re waiting for someone, with only your parking lights on. If someone approaches you…”
“I say I got lost...that I’m looking up directions on my smartphone.”
“Exactly.” After a last look around, he slipped out the door and shut it behind him with a soft click.
* * *
Joanne watched Mike in the rear-view mirror as he strode to the dumpster. After a casual look around, as though he were out for a casual stroll, he paused in front of the bin, pushed back the lid, and in one slick, fast movement, hoisted himself up and into the trash bin.
Looking around, she blew out a pent-up breath. To her right, a fence blocked people’s view of her car and the dumpster. To her left was a asphalt parking lot for a electrical business, now closed.
So far, so good.
Honest to God, she could still feel his warm fingers on her face where he’d touched her. And that kiss...wow. For a big, tough buy he kissed like a matinee idol.
Mike jumped out of the top of the dumpster, lugging two black plastic bags with him. Moments later, he tossed the bags in the back, shut the door and got back into the passenger seat.
“Go,” he rasped, his face flushed and shiny with sweat. “If we don’t’ find anything damning in this trash, it could be Rex is clean.”
“And the trial will be focused on my defense of Dita,” Joanne said, turning a tight corner, one of many in this ongoing mystery filled with twists and turns
* * *
On the first day of trial, Joanne and Mike arrived early to the courthouse to avoid the media. As luck would have it, the trial judge would be Darren Fields, whose citation
of contempt against Joanne several months ago set her life on this new course.
She had already informed the judge that Mike would be sitting at the defense table as her consultant, which he approved as the defense was always entitled to assistance. He also made it clear to Joanne that she was not to identity him to the jury as a federal special agent because one of his duties as a judge was to block irrelevant and prejudicial information from the jurors, as she well knew after their last go-around in court, and he did not want Mike’s status as a federal agent sitting at the defense table to prejudice the jurors for or against the defendant.
Lenny arrived a short while later with a nervous Dita. The two of them embraced and kissed before Lenny escorted her to the defense table. Joanne and Mike exchanged a look. Neither had been aware that romance had rekindled, which added a bittersweet feel to the trial. Soon afterward, the courtroom started filling up. Reporters, family members, other lawyers wanting to watch the proceedings of the high-profile case, and the general public who had read about this case, seen it on the news and now wanted to watch the grand finale.
She and Burnette then spent several hours in voir dire, jury selection, then presented their opening arguments. Predictably, Burnette played up Dita's background and the surveillance footage. Joanne emphasized that justice wasn't about assumptions, which the DA was doing by leaning on the defendant's past, but about facts, of which this case lacked.
Throughout the rest of first day of trial, the DA shows surveillance footage of Dita sprinting away from Organica Streetwear minutes before the fire ignites, interviewed a detective who attested to Dita’s father being a hired torch, showed photos of Dita and her boyfriend Mustang, a leader of the Animal Liberation Front, being charged with misappropriation of property for releasing cattle that belonged to a Florida packing house.
In turn, Joanne shot down the viability of the surveillance footage as not evidencing guilt because it failed to show a connection between the crime and Dita’s presence on the street. As to Dita’s father being a hired torch, Joanne told the jury that the only link between Dita and her father were their genes. And last, as to Dita being charged for releasing the cattle, Joanne informed the jury that those charges were dropped.
At the end of the day, the prosecution and defense ended with a photo finish.
The second day of trial kicked off with a friend of Dita’s testifying about the two of them in the past having jogged several times in the park near Organica Streetwear. The DA left room for the two eco-terrorists Jim mentioned in his letter to also be witnesses, but surprise surprise, they were a no-show.
Things weren't just looking great for the defense, they were looking damn good.
* * *
Chapter 11
Early in the afternoon of the second day of trial, Jim, AKA Mustang, took the stand. After asking Jim to read out loud the letter he wrote the DA, she tells the jury that Jim lied in that letter because Dita had been in North Carolina visiting family on the date he claimed she flew back to Florida to teach incendiary techniques to the eco-terrorist group.
Sitting at the defense table, Mike received a fax on his smartphone: The airlines travel itinerary that he had requested days ago. He can’t believe what he’s reading—it was supposed to support Dita’s assertion that she cancelled her plane flight from North Carolina to Florida but instead shows that she flew to Florida on the date Jim claimed in his letter.
Mike looked over at the prosecution’s table where the DA, smirking, is showing his smartphone screen to a deputy DA who nods and smiles. Shit. They must have received the same itinerary. Mike’s stomach dropped. Joanne once said this very issue was the Achilles heel of the case, and she was right. This is dagger to the heart of Joanne's case. After Joanne finished her questioning with Jim, the DA will cross-examine him, then show this itinerary to the jury to prove that Jim has been telling the truth all along that his girlfriend, Dita, secretly flew to Florida for an Animal Freedom Party meeting. The DA would likely request Mike’s or even Joanne’s phone, as additional documentation in the courtroom is always subject to it being entered as evidence, after which the DA would verify that the defense received this same fax while they had the floor yet failed to mention it.
The DA, renowned for his vicious tactics, might even accuse the Joanne of knowingly concealing evidence in front of a judicial body, the jury, which is a felony.
From there, everything would crash and burn. Dita would be found guilty, the judge could charge Joanne with concealing evidence, which could ultimately mean the loss of her law license, a career that is her life’s passion
Mike can’t let this happen.
He tried to get Joanne’s attention, but her back was to him as she told the judge she had no further questions for Jim. As the judge asked if she has any other witnesses, Mike knows there are seconds before the DA takes the floor. Years ago he hadn't acted in time to save Paula’s life…he must act now.
Mike stood. “One more witness, your honor."
The judge asked Joanne if that’s correct. Surprised, she looked at Mike who subtly pointed at himself. He can almost hear her questioning thoughts. Why are you doing? You’ll be required to state your name, and every reporter in the room will be jotting it down. She looked at the judge, who was obviously contemplating the pros and cons of Mike identifying himself on the stand. To her surprise, he nods his go-ahead for Mike to take the stand.
Mike knew what he’s risking, but it would be worse to spend years regretting that he hadn't acted in time to save Joanne’s career and Dita’s freedom. This way, Joanne can share the itinerary before the DA does. It wasn't going to be pretty, but at least she would look honest to the jury, and the DA couldn't accuse her of committing a felony. Afterward Mile will dig for more facts, see if the airlines made a mistake.
Mike wrote down two words—travel itinerary—on a piece of paper, and handed it to Joanne as he walked to the stand.
* * *
After Mikes takes the oath from the judge and states his name, Joanne cautiously asks him what he knows about a travel itinerary. He testifies that a few minutes ago he received Dita’s airline travel itinerary that documents her flight arrangements to Florida on the same date Jim testified she was with him and other Animal Freedom Party members.
Joanne, forcing herself to stay calm, agreed that Dita had made an airline reservation, but she had cancelled it. Mike turns the screen of his smartphone for her to see and points out an airline notation that shows there was no cancellation. She stares at the small screen but can’t make sense of the swirling words and asks the judge for a moment to talk to her client.
In a whispered conversation at the defense table, Dita says that she never cancelled the flight because her cousin wanted so much to visit Florida. When Joanne asks if her cousin flew under her own name, Dita tearfully says her cousin lost her driver’s license, but since they look so much alike, Dita let her cousin use her ID.
Dita now looks like a liar who tried to hide that she taught arson techniques to a group of eco-terrorists. It’s not a stretch for jurors to think that if she lied about that, she probably lied about not setting the Organica Streetwear fire, too. Joanne has always tried to be prepared for any last-minute surprises at a trial, but this evidence is a dagger to the heart of her case.
Shaking, Joanne approaches the bench and asks the judge for a short recess as she needs to double-check the facts of this new evidence. The judge grudgingly gives her thirty minutes, no more.
Mike, ignoring reporters’ questions, follows Joanne down the hallway. They finally shake the media by entering an empty courtroom and sequestering themselves in its jurors’ room (Note: Many courtrooms have side doors to such private rooms). Joanne, hurt and angry, accuses him of setting her up to believe he had evidence in support of Dita, when in fact he introduced damning evidence that has destroyed her case, her career and Dita’s life.
Mike begs her to hear him out. Both he and the DA received that electronic itinerary mome
nts before she ended her questioning of Jim, and if she hadn’t brought Mike to the stand to testify about it before the DA, he would have used it against her to far greater damage.
Or maybe, Joanne says, you never really believed that Dita was innocent. That Mike’s driving need to unmask the Timepiece Arsonist is greater than anything, even the truth. And to think she believed him when he said he’d do anything to help her win. Fighting tears, Joanne pulls out her phone to call the cousin so she can testify by phone that she took Dita’s place on that flight. But Joanne’s dyslexia prevents her from making sense of the numbers on the keypad.
Mike says he’ll track down the cousin so she can testify by phone, but Joanne isn’t listening. She tells him it’s over as she walks away.
Minutes later, a defeated Joanne re-enters the courtroom. Oh, she’ll do her best to explain to the court that it was Dita’s cousin who actually took that flight, but she has no way to prove it. Tomorrow morning is closing arguments, but the case is really over now.
Meanwhile, Mike locates Dita’s cousin’s number, but there’s no answer. He tries calling others in Dita’s family, but no one knows where she is. As he walks down the courthouse hallway, stray members of the media hound him, one asking why an ATF special agent is working on behalf of the defense. It’s just a matter of time before ATF learns about this.
A familiar voice called out his name.
Mike looked up and saw his dad.
“Your mom and I are driving home later today…I wanted to drop and see how the trial’s going and say good-bye.”
For the first time in years, Mike opens up to his dad, tells him about the itinerary, how he’s unable to track down the cousin, how she texted her confirmation a week or so ago to Joanne, but phone carriers don’t have the technology to save text within messages, just their attachments. Maybe Paula’s text message had an attachment that could have made a difference in this trial, but Mike lost the opportunity to see it.
Mistletoe and Murder in Las Vegas Page 15